


Bruises

by andromedaflynn



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Regret
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 08:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19103380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedaflynn/pseuds/andromedaflynn
Summary: A simple loss of control and suddenly your entire world is thrown upside down.





	1. Chapter 1

A sweeping motion in your peripheral vision and his leg threw you off balance, pulling your feet out from under you as you were sent harshly to the floor, your back hitting the matt with a depressing pfft. The wind knocked out of you, you gasped for air, but you barely had a second to inhale before a glint of bright light caught your attention. A tightly clenched metal fist coming straight towards you. Your eyes widened in shock, apparently there was no going easy on you today, and you quickly rolled out of the way. A deep groan coming from your lips as you stumbled back onto your feet. You hadn’t expected this to be a fully charged sparring match, not after having only come back from a mission the day before and having already spent time on the treadmill, but by the dark glint in Bucky’s gaze it seemed there was no way he was going to let you get away with anything less than one hundred percent.

Your hands raised, ready to block, you barely dodged the next punch that came your way, not having waited for you to stand before striking. Yep, definitely no holding back today. A duck and weave out of the way of yet another punch had you at his side, sending an uppercut his way that seemed to catch him by surprise. Your jaw slackened slightly at the force of your punch, not wanting to actually hurt him, but your anxiety over hurting your boyfriend was quickly replaced with fear as he whipped his gaze back to you, pupils blown wide, leaving barely any trace of the soft blue you loved.

A gulp escaped you. Quickly you found yourself on the defensive, doing your best to avoid the hits that kept coming your way. A hit, a dodge, another hit, a block. You barely got a chance to throw your own punches his way as the onslaught of attacks came from Bucky.

“Bucky, please-” you gasped, trying to get him to stop, hoping to appeal to his better judgement, to call him into the present and make him realise what was happening. It was clear he wasn’t in his right mind, his instincts and training taking over from any rational thought he otherwise would have had. But your plea fell on deaf ears, over and over again.

“B-” you started once more, only to be silenced by his fist colliding with your face.

Your head whipped back at the force, a sharp sting capturing your attention. Your hand began to make its way to your lips, checking to see if it had been split open, but with Bucky’s leg barrelling towards you, you didn’t have time. Your hands in front of you once more, you prepared for the endless assault that came from the super soldier. Punch after punch, kick after kick, there was only so much you could block and dodge, and even then you felt the force behind every hit you pushed away from you.

Again and again, you felt the pummelling break through your defenses. An endless tirade of attacks from the man who held no emotion behind his steely gaze. You could feel yourself weakening, each hit taking its toll on your already exhausted and battered body, sure to leave marks in the morning; that is, if you managed to make it to morning. By this point you weren’t so certain.

Your mind desperately attempted to find a way out of what had long since stopped being a sparring match and become a fully fledged fight. You couldn’t win this fight, no matter how much prior training you had, you were no match for Bucky in his super soldier state, you knew that. Fighting dirty was an option, but there was nothing you could get your hands on to use as a weapon anyway, so it wasn’t a particularly helpful option. Obviously trying to get his attention, to remind him where he was, what was happening, who you were, who he was wasn’t working…

A sound from behind you had you whirling around, defensive instincts on high as your body half expected to be hit by another opponent. But as your sights focused on the door you saw no enemy, just Steve, his gym bag over his shoulder, paused in the doorway as he took in the sight before him. Your huffing breath was visible even from where he stood, your chest desperately moving with each inhalation and exhalation as it clawed for oxygen. Your hair was no longer neatly held back, but coming out at different angles, your clothes pulled from their right positions, not given the time to be put back where they belonged. But what captured his full attention wasn’t your messy appearance, but the way your prolonged battle showed on your skin. Lip cut, patches of reddened skin jutting out on any exposed skin. Something was wrong.

Your gaze met Steve’s for the slightest of moments, but you didn’t have time to take in his bewildered expression, another curled fist had come towards you, causing you to yelp as you failed to get completely out of its way. Catching you in the abdomen, causing you to step back from the force. Your hands grasped at your torso, all training long from your mind at the pure shock and pain the punch had caused. A cold metal hand grasped at your shoulder, turning you and forcing you down to the ground, your hands only just coming out to brace the fall in time.

Suddenly, your hands were tugged behind you, held tightly in a vice like grip against your back as Bucky lowered himself until he was straddling your back, your hands squished between you. Under other circumstances you wouldn’t mind the position, but the image of such a situation was quickly pulled from your mind as you felt Bucky’s arm wrap around your neck, capturing you in the crook of his elbow and squeezing tightly. You could feel the your throat frantically attempting to swallow, your lungs quickly crying out for air as all you could do to try to free yourself from the position was wiggle desperately underneath him, hoping desperately that he would come to his senses and let you go.

White light started to fog your vision and all you could think was ‘please, no,’ as your body began to cease its movements, surrendering to the numbness you knew was waiting for you.

Air rushed your lungs, your face falling to the mat with a resounding splat. Vaguely you acknowledged that there was no longer anything around your neck, that your arms had been freed, but you couldn’t seem to care. All that mattered was that blissful feeling of air rushing into your lungs as you lay there motionless against the cool plastic flooring.

In the background you could hear a mumble of voices, reassuring yet strong and determined, words you couldn’t quite make out, a grappling of movement, more words, calmer this time. The movements ceased, your mind taking the small moment of silence as a sign that it could truly relax, letting the tension in your body dissolve as you practically melted into the mat below you.

A scrambling of movement from behind you, and you heard Steve’s voice calling out to you, anxious and worried. But you didn’t have the energy to speak. Raising a lazy hand, you gave him a weak wave to tell him you were fine, or, at least, you would be, ushering him to give his attention to Bucky, to make sure he was doing alright. For now you just needed to rest, to enjoy that sweet blissful feeling of air as it filled your starved lungs, to embrace the way your body was no longer hit with a seemingly endless onslaught of painful blows.

You knew the pain would be back soon, knew the dull ache in your muscles would soon turn into painful bruises and marks that would show for days, if not weeks. But right now you could take that moment alone on the mat as you settled in the silence that surrounded you. At some point you felt gentle hands pulling you up, Russian words muttered in anger as your best friend checked you over, concern filling her gaze, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to truly focus on the present, your mind reeling with what had just happened.

He had lost control, you could see that as clear as day. There was no sign of tenderness or care, soft blue eyes changed into a steely cold tone that you didn’t recognise. Part of you wanted to see him straight away, to make sure he was alright, to make him know you didn’t blame him for the sudden switch in his behaviour, or the ruthless way he had gone at you. But that small voice that often came to you in moments of doubt was sitting at the forefront of your mind screaming one thought over and over again. What if Steve hadn’t been there to step in? What would have happened then?


	2. Chapter 2

“This isn’t an argument, Y/N,” he sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes, not that he’d been able to look you in the eye since he had turned up at your door some minutes earlier. It was the first time he had even spoken to you in days, having gone out of his way to avoid you since the incident in the gym. You had tried to talk to him, tried to reassure him that you were alright, covering your bruises in fear that they might show just how deeply he had hurt you, but he was nowhere to be seen, leaving your numerous calls and texts unanswered. But then there he was, standing at your doorway, his posture drooped, uttering those words that you feared were coming… ‘we need to talk’. **  
**

“So, what, I don’t even get a say?” you huffed in exasperation, your arms crossing defensively in front of you. Things had been going so well between you before the incident. Sure, they weren’t perfect, but what relationship was? But even with the occasional squabble or the way he would suddenly shut off, not able to express his thoughts and feelings, it was still the best relationship you had ever been in, and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to try and fight for it. “You’re just going to break up with me without even letting me say that I think this is ridiculous?”

Bucky merely gave you a look in response, one that clearly said ‘well, you’re saying that now, aren’t you?’ But he didn’t let you continue, cutting in with a deep exhale that you just knew would be followed by words you wouldn’t want to hear. “It’s over, Y/N, for the sake of the team I think- I think we should just leave it at that.”

For the sake of the team? Since when did that matter when it came to your relationship? This wasn’t about them, this was about you, about the way he had lost control and subsequently freaked out, about the way he hadn’t even been able to face you or see if you were ok after Steve had intervened. This was about the way you felt about one another, that magnetic pull that drew you close, that chemistry that made your skin feel like it was on fire.

From the moment you had laid eyes on one another you knew something was different, you could feel an incomparable pull towards him, curious to know everything about his personality, ready to fight at his side, wanting to make him smile. At first you had thought it some stupid little crush, your subconscious being pulled towards the former bad boy, some desire to fix him, but you soon found that wasn’t the case. It wasn’t just the way his hair hung around his face, framing those stunning blue eyes with dark locks of hair, it wasn’t the way he looked in a leather jacket, or the way his prosthetic arm shone when the light caught it. It was the way he looked at you when no one else was around, those small smiles reserved only for you, the way he would chuckle under his breath when he heard you sassing Steve behind his back.

Soon it became more, the way he held you close when you were alone, the way he always looked out for you, even when there was no danger at all, the way he would never hesitate to grab you food or a drink if he was getting up. He was caring in so many silent ways, and even now, when he was quite literally breaking your heart, you knew exactly why he was doing it. He was trying to protect you from himself.

Anger filled your veins, you wanted to scream and shout, wanted to yell at him that you wouldn’t let things end this way, that you weren’t about to let him give up like this, but he was determined, and he was already walking away.

* * *

Two weeks had passed, and it was clear you were not taking the breakup well. You were barely eating, your sleep schedule was erratic at best, and your work in the field was suffering as a side effect. Natasha had been by your side at every moment, taking over for Bucky whenever you were meant to work together, comforting you when you cried so hard that tears simply would no longer emerge, reassuring you that things would get better. You appreciated it, you really did, but each time you could feel the unsaid words, you needed to move on.

If only it was that simple.

Bucky was still avoiding you, but not as much as he had been at first. You saw one another in the kitchen, or whenever Clint would demand a movie night for the whole team, but he would always be careful not to get too close, not to speak to you or let his gaze linger on you, and somehow that hurt more than the breakup itself.

You were tired. Tired of the fighting, tired of having to keep a brave face for the rest of the team, tired of seeing him every day and being reminded of all that you had lost.

You didn’t tell anyone your plan until it was already in action, but you suspected that Natasha had figured you out already. Subtle words of encouragement, sad smiles, hugs that lasted that moment longer than necessary; she had to know something was going on. It wasn’t until you were packing up your suit after a particularly hairy mission that the tears began to spill. You would miss this, miss the adventures, the thrill of the action, the certainty that your team had your back. But you couldn’t stay, you couldn’t bare to continue on like this. It was time to move on.

“You are planning on saying goodbye, right?” a low voice called from your doorway. You didn’t have to turn around to know there was a sad smile on the super soldiers lips.

Doing up the zip on the last of your suitcases, your head hung low, unprepared for the sad farewell that was about to happen. With a calming breath you turned to face Steve, a matching sad smile in your own features as you looked guiltily around the room.

“Did Nat tell you?” You asked in a small voice, one that gave away the emotions you so desperately wanted to hide.

“Nah, figured something was up. Heard the sad sigh over the coms when I said we were ready to go back home,” he explained, slowly making his way into the room, giving a customary glance at the horrid emptiness of it all. “Is this because of Buck?”

You wanted to deny it, wanted to say it wasn’t his fault, ready to defend him even now, but you hesitated. “Yes and no,” you settled for, sitting down with a sigh. “I think it’s time I gave the whole ‘having a life’ deal a go, can’t really do that if I’m fighting off enemies every day.”

Sitting down next to you, Steve have a single nod in understanding. “Where will you go?”

“One of my old SO’s has a job for me in London,” you began, a small smile growing on your lips at the thought. “Lucky for me, SHIELD made sure we all had something else under our belts in case we needed to disappear, I chose a teaching degree.”

“You’re going to teach?” Steve spoke in surprise, never having considered the profession for anyone who fought for a living. “Like, martial arts or-”

“No, Steve,” you laughed, a vision of your future students doing martial arts filling your thoughts for a moment. “Primary school. My old S.O. is the deputy headmaster at a small school in Norwich. I think it’s about as far from all this as I could get, and I could use that.”

Silence fell over the two of you, both lost in your own thoughts of what had been, what would be, how on earth you were going to move forwards from all of this. It was going to be an adventure, that’s what you kept telling yourself. It would something so incredibly different, filled with challenges of its own. It could be the chance for the life you had always dreamt of, for a chance to fall in love and grow old with someone, for a chance to heal.

A buzz from your phone drew your attention. It was time. With an apologetic smile to Steve, you stood, beginning to grab at your bags.

“Already?” he asked in such a small voice that it nearly brought a tear to your eye. “You weren’t going to say goodbye, were you?”

Your heart clenched at his words, despite the fact that they were true. You hadn’t intended on telling anyone, planning on simply leaving with a short note to explain that you were moving on. But you couldn’t tell him that, the words were simply too hard to say. So instead you offered him a wonky smile, trying to encourage yourself to keep moving.

“Cab’s here,” you spoke simply. With a nod, Steve forced a somewhat stoic expression on his face, as if this were merely another mission he had to get through, and stood, taking your heaviest bag from your hands.

“Come on, then, least I can do is walk you down,” he sighed, knowing there was no way he was going to be able to talk you out of this, no matter how much he may want to. You had made your mind up, and you deserved better than him trying to convince you to stay. You deserved a life, a chance at having that white picket fence that seemed so unlikely when fighting bad guys day in and day out.

Grabbing your bags before you had a chance to argue, Steve gave an attempt at a reassuring smile, nodding for you to go ahead. The gesture was small, but somehow it felt calming, as if he was not only accepting your decision, but approving it. You didn’t think you had needed that sense of assurance, but somehow now that you had it, it meant the world. Maybe everything really would be alright now. Maybe this was what you needed. Maybe you could finally live.


End file.
